Fly Away From Here
by Leelee
Summary: [Taito] Yamato fights his toughest battle ever: Finding happiness with the one he loves.
1. Wishing at night

fafh1 Leelee's note: To get it out of the way (and because I rarely put disclaimers in my stories), I DO NOT own Digimon. If I did, the Digiboys would be my sick little love slaves 24/7. ^__~ Also, I'm not very well-versed in Japanese, both the language and the customs, so if you read things that aren't correct or see an American name that I put in there by mistake, don't stress, just chalk it up to my own ignorance. I'm not sure what Yamato's dad's real name is, so I'm going by what I saw in someone else's fic.

Also, chapter one sets the tone for the story. This is a very adult story. Please read only if you feel you are mature enough to handle the content.

**Fly Away From Here**

Ishida Yamato walked wearily up the stairs towards the door to the apartment he shared with his father. Light from the streetlamps created flickering shadows across the stained carpet floor of the hallway. Yamato's feet slid sluggish closer to his destination. When he finally reached the door, he stared stupidly at it for a full minute, attempting to remember how it opened. As if a little-used light bulb had suddenly clicked on in his brain, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. Fumbling until he found the right one, Yamato set his guitar case down against the door with a dull thump.

A sudden muffled moan from inside the apartment startled him out of his mental fog. Yamato wondered who would be inside his home at that time, and realized that he didn't even know _what_ time it was. He checked his watch and shook his head, surprised at the answer. He brought it closer to his eyes and squinted at the little digital numbers, which danced in front of his tired vision like hyperactive little green bugs.

Three things happened at once, then. First, the door was wrenched open from the inside, revealing Yamato's father in his disheveled pajamas. Secondly, his guitar case fell inward, landing between his father's feet with a sickening crack. Third, Yamato yelped in surprise and dropped his keys between his own feet.

"What are you doing here?" they both asked each other at the same time. Masaharu looked half dead, with dark rings under his eyes, and his shoulders slumped from fatigue. His son wasn't in much better condition.

Yamato swallowed before he spoke, and told his heartbeat to return to normal. "I just got done with band practice," he answered. He reached down and retrieved his keys. Then, cocking his head to one side, "You're usually not home yet."

His father sighed, gently grabbing the neck of the guitar case and pulling the instrument up. "Yeah, well, we ran out of regular coffee at work, but I didn't have any money to go buy some more, so I came back here to get some. Once I got in, I realized I was just too tired to go back, so I went to bed." His eyes narrowed as he met Yamato's gaze. "It's almost two in the morning. Do you always practice this late?" he asked accusingly.

Yamato took his guitar out of Masaharu's hands and slipped through the open door and past him. "I - uh - no - no, not usually," he stammered, turning red, and ducking his head to hide it. "We just got - wrapped up - in the . . . music . . . and," he trailed off as his father closed and locked the front door and turned around, staring at him wearily.

"I didn't know it was so late," Yamato finished lamely, mentally kicking himself. His father would ask what was going on, he was sure of it.

Masaharu simply nodded and ambled back off to bed, though, shutting his bedroom door behind him. Yamato sighed in relief and kicked off his shoes. He walked silently to his own room, pushing the door shut behind him and leaning against it. His head fell forward against his chest and he sighed again. _That was too close_, he told himself. _I've got to be more careful. He's going to find out one of these days._ Yamato shuddered and pushed himself off the door. He set his guitar case gently on his bed, and opened it, checking to make sure his precious instrument hadn't cracked when it fell. It was okay.

Dimming the overhead lights, Yamato pulled off his school jacket and threw it on the floor as he walked back toward the door. He put his ear against the crack, listening for any sounds that would indicate his father was still awake. Soft, distant snores were all he heard. Carefully, Yama locked his door, wincing at the noise the bolt made when it shot home.

Unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off, Yamato walked over to his dresser. His CD player sat on top, and he turned it on, turning the volume down, low enough not to wake Masaharu, but loud enough to cover what noise the blond planned on making. Yamato threw his white long-sleeved school shirt over the back of the wooden chair by his desk and pulled off the tshirt he wore underneath. Standing in front of the full-length mirror on his closet door, he slowly, sensually unbuckled his belt and undid the button and zipper on his pants. He admired his own form as he slid his trousers off his slender legs.

Yamato bent down and pulled his socks off. The CD player went silent for a few seconds as it hit a break between songs and Yama gave himself one last scrutinizing look in the mirror before turning off the light and laying back on his bed. He usually wore boxers, but since he hadn't had any clean ones, he'd worn a pair of dark blue briefs that day.

Yamato rubbed his neck with his right hand, feeling the curves and bumbs. As he moved his hand down his chest and stomach, he wished, not for the first time, that his ribs didn't protrude out so much. No matter how much he ate, he was unable to gain any weight.

_I have the perfect figure_, he thought. _Any girl would kill to be as thin as I am._ He squeezed his eyes shut. _I should have been born a girl! Life would be so much easier! I could just tell _him_ how I feel, and it wouldn't matter what anyone thought, because girls are expected to like guys, but guys can't like other guys._

_I'm a freak._

Yamato moved his fingers lightly over the line of nearly-invisible fuzz that started just below his belly button. He let his hand play with the elastic band of his briefs for a second before he raised his hips and slipped his underwear down a few inches. His erection bobbed up, a reminder that he couldn't control himself whenever he pictured the object of his desire. Reaching blindly into the drawer beside his bed, Yamato pulled out a small bottle of lotion. He squeezed a glob out onto his hand, then put it back in the drawer.

_I'm not normal_, he told himself, setting a slow rhythm. _If I were normal, I wouldn't be fantasizing about guys all the time. I wouldn't get hard just thinking his name._ Yamato's throat tightened. _I wouldn't feel so confused, so alone all the time!_ A tear slipped down his cheek.

_Why can't I be normal?_ he asked himself, as the music concealed the slippery noises he made. _Why am I gay?_


	2. Taking a break

fafh1 Leelee's note: I don't own Digimon. If I did, Ken would've kept that whip he had as the Emperor and used it on Daisuke a few times. ^__~ Eh, well . . .

This chapter isn't the reason this fanfic is rated NC17, but don't worry, fellow perverts, the smut cometh eventually.

And a big thank you to those who took the time to review. It means a lot to me! Comments keep me writing! ^__^

**Fly Away From Here**   
Chapter 2

The next morning, Yamato woke up late. He'd forgotten to set his alarm clock. The insistent ringing of the phone pulled him out of his sleep. He glanced blearily at the clock beside his bed.

"Shit!" he cried. "I'm two hours late!"

Yamato jumped up, wincing as his tired muscles complained. He reached the phone on his desk and picked it up, just as the person on the other end of the line hung up.

_Great. That was probably my school,_ he thought. _I wasn't supposed to miss any more classes. I hope I'm not in too much trouble._ He quickly showered and dressed, deciding that getting himself off under the spray of the water would make him even later. He applied gel to his hair, brushed it and slicked it down in a way that brought out the shape of his face and the color of his eyes - or so he'd been told by Sora.

He grabbed an apple from the fridge and slung his guitar case over his shoulder. He stuck the apple in his mouth and picked up his keys before he pulled on his shoes and left the apartment.

Once he reached the street, Yamato broke into a brisk walk. If he'd woken up when he was supposed to, he could have caught a bus to school, but he had no idea what the city bus schedule was for that time of day. Eating the apple as he walked, Yamato berated himself for being too 'preoccupied' to set his alarm clock the night before.

_Idiot. Freak. Loser._ The names came easily. _Staying out all night, watching his window, hoping he'd somehow _magically_ pull back the curtains and see you standing in the street._ Yamato paused for traffic at an intersection. A middle-aged man in a business suit stopped beside him, talking rapidly on a cell phone.

_It's bad enough I can't control my body, but I have no control over my own actions any more._ He finished chomping on the apple just as the crosswalk light turned green. He resumed his brisk walk to school, his mind continuing in circles the rest of the way there.   


Yamato ducked into the music room to drop off his guitar for safe-keeping during the school day. There were several small groups of kids practicing for orchestra class, but they didn't even look his way when he opened the door. He was about to turn around to go to his locker when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

"Mr. Ishida?" a deep voice said gravely. "We need to talk."

Yamato turned and looked up into the eyes of his vice principal. He swallowed, turning white, and nodded.

"Come to my office." Yamato paled a bit more and meekly followed the older man through the school.   


After school, Yamato walked slowly to the warehouse district where his band practiced every day. His mind wasn't on the chords he played or the words he sang, though - he was desperately trying to devise a way to keep his father in the dark about his problems at school. Yamato had missed more days than was allowed, and he had more tardies and unexcused absences than any other student. The vice principal was going to send a letter home to his father.

"Hey, man! Earth to blondie!" the drummer was calling. The rest of the band was laughing. Yamato blinked and looked up.

"Hey, what is it guys? Why'd you stop playing?" he asked, tucking a stray hair behind his left ear.

"We stopped playing five minutes ago, dude, but you kept going."

"No offense, Yamato, but you look like shit. Do you sleep any more?"

"Your playing hasn't been that great, either. After all those times you rode _us_ to practice more, maybe you should take your own advice!"

Yamato felt a ball of cold fear growing in his stomach. _What's wrong with me?_ Out loud, he said, "You're right. I'm pretty tired, guys. I think I'll go home and practice on my own tonight. Why don't we just take a couple days off and meet back here on Monday?" The keyboard player mouthed the word 'yes' and instantly began packing up his instrument.

"Cool. I could use a break."

"Me, too, man. My girlfriend's been bugging me to take her to that new Jackie Chan movie."

Yamato let a breath of air out that he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. _They just think I'm tired. They don't know why._ He watched as they gathered up their equipment and left, chatting about girls and music. The drummer turned and waved. Yama absently raised his own hand in a mock salute. _They don't _care_ why, either. They want to be big someday, just like I do, but they imagine screaming girl groupies, while I envision pretty young boys chasing after me._ He sighed and put his guitar in his case, lovingly caressing the strings before he stuck his pick between two of them.

_Even if right now there's only one boy I want more than anyone else._ Yamato's pants felt tight as he pictured the face of his secret love bending close to his for a passionate kiss. He shook his head, looking around at the shadows in the empty warehouse. He repressed a sudden shiver and quickly locked up and left. The place was beginning to give him the creeps.

Yamato walked slowly home along the river, watching the sun set over the water and wishing he had someone to watch it with him. Night gradually descended upon the city, but his steps never quickened, despite the chill in the air. Yama simply stuck his hands in his pockets and tucked his face down into his collar. He walked past businessmen hailing taxis, women leading young children by grubby little hands, and smiling, happy couples. It was the last group that affected him the most. He would stare after a few of them for a while, imagining himself walking at night, holding hands with the one he loved, without a care in the world.

He stopped when he realized he'd come to his destination. The apartment building loomed up in front of him. Yamato craned his neck up to a familiar fourth floor balcony window. There was a light on inside. He strained his eyes, hoping to see a shadow move behind the curtains, but it just wasn't his night. Just a few moments after he arrived, the room went dark. Yama sighed in defeat. _He might not even be home. He might have a girlfriend. I barely see him any more - how would I find out things like that?_

Turning his thoughts to solving his problems at school, Yamato didn't hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late. 


	3. 

fafh1 Leelee's note: I don't own the characters from Digimon. If I did, Yama, Ken, Tai, and Daisuke would be tied to my bedposts wearing tiger-striped loincloths and feeding me grapes.

I want to thank everyone who reviewed! It means a lot to me!****

**Fly Away From Here**   
Chapter 3

"Yamato? What are you doing out here?"

He whipped his head around at the sound of his name, surprised that anyone knew him, afraid that it would be the occupant of the apartment he'd been staring at. His fears were confirmed when he turned to see Yagami Taichi and Izumi Koushiro standing in the street a few feet away from him.

"Eh - uh - I - Hi, guys!" Yamato stammered, placing a hand on the back of his neck and hoping they would think his face was red because of the cold air and not because he was embarrassed at being 'caught'.

Taichi laughed, and Yamato felt his body temperature rise a few degrees. "Did you take a wrong turn or something, man? You looked totally lost a second ago!" Taichi spoke quickly, glancing sideways at his shorter friend with an unreadable look on his face. Yama's heart skipped a beat as an unrational fear gripped him. _Are those two - ?_

"I was just - walking home. No big deal," the blond said out loud, forcing his voice to sound bored, distant, _cool_. Not wanting to let on that his insides were fluttering with the wings of a hundred butterflies, he stretched his lips in a phony smile.

"You must be freezing," Koushiro commented, pointing his chin at Yamato's school outfit. Both non-blonds were wearing warm coats, Taichi's with two ridiculous yellow footprints on the back.

Yamato shrugged. "I don't feel it." He surpressed a shiver as a frigid breeze stole its way down his back.

"Koushiro and I were just going to get something to eat. Why don't you come with us?" Taichi asked. He cocked his head to one side. "That is, if you didn't plan on standing in front of my building all night long." Yama sucked in his breath and looked hard at his friend's face, searching for any hint of mockery or anger. Taichi wore an indecipherable expression.

"Thanks, but no thanks, guys. I'm not really hungry." His stomach betrayed him then, though, growling loudly enough that all three could hear it.

Taichi laughed outright. Koushiro had the deceny to ignore it and simply asked him if he was sure. Yamato nodded shyly, turning crimson, and walked with his friends the couple of blocks to the restaurant.   


Nothing else was said on the sidewalks. In fact, once they were inside the restaurant proper, nothing much was said then, either. Yamato was thankful for that, because he didn't have to answer the questions he sensed burning behind Taichi's eyes.

_"What were you doing outside my apartment? Do you do that a lot? Why didn't you want to eat with us?" Damn, I really need my head examined. How long did I think I could keep on watching his bedroom window without being caught?_ Yamato was afraid that he looked guilty, and kept stealing glances at Tai out of the corner of his eye.

Suddenly he became aware that Taichi was staring back at him, questionly. Yamato shuffled his feet nervously and broke the eye contact. Surprisingly, he felt the brunnet's body lean against him and his breath tickle his ear.

"Yama? Are you okay?" he asked. The blond blinked a few times and turned to look at his slightly shorter companion. _The way he whispered my name was so beautiful._ He felt goosebumps rising on his arms and something else stirring below his waist. And Taichi was still looking at him, still leaning in so close, still talking.

". . . guitar? Yamato? Hello! Do you want to leave your guitar with the host or not?" He had started to sound mildly annoyed.

"What? Oh, sure, I guess so," the blond replied, pulling the case off his back and leaning it against the wall near the host.

"You may seat yourselves," the man said curtly, walking away briskly. Yamato heard what he whispered to himself about teenagers and drugs, though, and his cheeks turned red once again.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm already not feeling very inclined to leave a tip," Koushiro said, causing Taichi to chuckle and slap him on the back as they walked towards a window booth. Yamato trailed slowly behind. A sudden thought struck him, and he reached into his pockets. His hands encountered exactly what he was afraid of: nothing. He had no money.

Taichi and Koushiro had already sat down on opposite sides of the booth. Yama hesitated. _Where should I sit? By Koushiro, so I don't seem suspicious? Or Taichi, so I don't have to drown in his stupid beautiful brown eyes?_ Indecision plagued him and he stood still until those same stupid beautiful brown eyes looked up and met his. 'They're so deep. Does he know how much I want him?'

"Yamato, are you going to eat standing up?" he asked, smiling warmly. Koushiro was nervously playing with the edge of his napkin, looking out the window at the dark street beyond.

"I - uh - don't think I can eat with you guys tonight," Yamato explained, putting his hands up in the air. "I'm broke!" He offered a small smile and turned to go. _Problem solved. I won't have to worry where to sit, because I won't be doing any sitting with him tonight._ His heart refused to stop its irregular beating though, and each beat set off a twinge of pain in his temple.

"Yama, man, wait a minute! I can cover you for tonight!" Taichi called loudly. Several of the people in the restaurant glared. "You can pay me back when you get another gig, okay?" The blond turned his head, his cheeks burning.

"Yeah, I guess that'll work." _What am I doing? I should've said NO! I can't do this! I can't sit that close to him and keep myself under control! Yama, you fool!_

"I've gotta use the bathroom. Tell the waiter I'll have a large regular pop if he comes by, okay, Koushiro?" Taichi said, sliding out of the booth. He brushed past Yamato, their shoulders touching, and grabbed him by the arm. "You're coming with me, man," he whispered, dragging the stunned blond towards the back of the restaurant.

Yama's heart started beating so fast he feared he'd suffer a coronary at the tender age of sixteen.   


* * *

Leelee: I love cliffhangers. Can you tell? ^__^ I also love reviews! 


	4. 

fafh1 Leelee's note: I don't know own Digimon or the characters. If I did, Fox's Saturday morning schedule would have to moved to late Saturday night, because of nudity and adult situations. ^__~

Thanks for all the reviews so far! I hope to get the next chapter out soon!

**Fly Away From Here**   
Chapter 4

Taichi pulled Yamato's unresisting body between the tables in the restaurant, not stopping until they reached the door to the men's bathroom. It was only then that the brunnet let go of the blond's arm, as he pulled open the door and motioned the taller boy through it.

_This isn't happening. He isn't doing this. I'm dreaming. I'm going to wake up any second now and wipe the drool off my face and go to school and -___

"Yamato, we need to talk." The bearer of the Crest of Friendship looked on in silent shock as Taichi pushed open the door to the single stall, but instead of entering, walked back to the door they had just come through, and locked it. _This isn't happening!_ Taichi turned away from Yamato and looked at his reflection in the mirror, running his hands through his hair. _I wish I dared to just walk up behind him, put my arms around his waist and rest my head on his shoulder. I wish he would turn around and throw himself at me and we'd fuck each other right here, right now!' Yama glanced down at the floor. 'Maybe not right here. We'd probably get infected with something unpleasant._

A strange silence settled on the two teenagers. Yamato stood in the middle of the restroom, his hands clenched into nervous fists, his face pale and his eyes wide with fear and desire. Taichi leaned against the dirty sink, his hands gripping the basin so hard his knuckles turned white, with his face lowered. Yamato couldn't see his expression, and the silence stretched on between them for a long moment, so that when the brown-haired boy finally spoke, his friend jumped, startled.

"We definitely need to talk, Ishida."

Yamato tried to speak, but his voice wouldn't obey him. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What about?" _Is this it? I never thought he'd be interested in me. I can never tell what he's thinking! We've never talked about each other's sexuality before. He's just standing there. Why won't he answer me? What is he going to say?_ Yamato's mind raced in furious circles. He stared at Taichi's back, his eyes taking in the curve of his spine and travelling it upward until it disappeared into a bush of brown hair.

"About you, man." Taichi turned around, but his eyes were focused on the floor. "Koushiro said he saw you standing outside my building."

Yamato swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. "I was on my way home from band practice."

Taichi shook his head, his hair bouncing back and forth. "I know where you practice. You had to go out of your way to walk by my place on your way home." His eyes suddenly rose up and captured Yamato's frightened blue gaze. There was a fierce intensity burning behind the brown flecks.

The blond stuck his hands in the pockets of his school jacket. "I - I like to take the long way home sometimes, I guess." He forced himself to laugh, but it sounded hallow even to his own ears. "I didn't know you were so territorial, Tai."

Taichi dropped his gaze back to the floor. "Koushiro said something else to me today, too," he went on, his voice low.

Yamato waited for him to continue. His eyes roamed all over the dingy restroom, seeing everything except the goggle-headed boy standing only a few feet away from him. The silence grew to uncomfortable proportions. Yamato didn't want to ask, though; he wanted the former leader of the Digidestined to say whatever he had to say on his own terms, without any prompting.

"We used to be really close."

"What?" Yamato felt his heart bottom out. _Where is this going? Why does he keep changing subjects on me?_

"We used to see each other more than once or twice a month. We used to talk on the phone every night." Taichi paused, shifting his weight so that he could rub the back of his neck. "What happened to us, Yama? It's like we're strangers, the way you keep yourself so far away from me - not just me! Everyone! Sora told me that you stopped talking to her, too, and she doesn't know why.

"It really hurts, you know."

Yamato's eyes flashed angrily. _He thinks _he_ knows hurt? He should suffer from unrequited love for as long as I have, _then_ he can talk to me about hurt and pain!_

"Man, I don't know what else to say. I thought that if I just got you alone, and told you that - that -" Taichi's voice cracked and he coughed, turning his head away and looking at the wall. "- That I thought you trusted me. You _can_ trust me, Yamato! I may not be the smartest, or the most reliable, or even the best listener, but I _will_ listen to whatever it is that you're afraid to tell me!" He broke off and looked down at his hands clenched into fists in front of him.

Yamato was flabbergasted. _How do I answer that? Should I tell him how I feel, what I am? Can I trust him? I used to . . ._ He chose to walk the safe road, though it only added to his inner turmoil. "What makes you think I have something to tell you?"

Taichi laughed suddenly, but it sounded as forced as Yamato's had been earlier. "Maybe I'm psychic. Maybe because I wouldn't be cornering you in here if it wasn't just Koushiro who's seen you outside my window at night."

_WHAT?_ "Who else _thinks_ they saw me, Tai?" he asked, his voice angry and shaky as panic took hold inside.

"Hikari," came the subdued answer. "Hikari said that you've been out there nearly every night for the past two weeks." Taichi's voice trembled with an emotion that Yamato couldn't place. "Dammit, don't you trust me any more? I'm still your friend!"

Yamato went slack-jawed at Tai's sudden outburst. For a brief second he was struck by the strange contrast in the young man before him: Taichi was trying hard to act mature and help his friend, yet he was wearing a coat that looked like it had come from the children's department.

He wasn't done speaking, though. "Whatever the problem is - your dad, or school, or your band, or even one of us, your _former_ friends -" Yamato winced. " - you can tell me! Don't go on camping outside my window at night! Just get it off your chest! You'll feel a lot better, trust me!" Taichi wound down, seeming to deflate as his anger left him.

The two teenagers stood in silence once again. The same thoughts flew around in Yamato's mind, like vultures in the desert, circling above carrion. What they all came down to though, was one thing: _Can I trust him? Is it time? I could tell him that I'm gay, but if he can't take that, then I never have to let on that I'm in love with him or that he's all I can think about._

_Or that I've nicknamed my left hand Yagami._

He shook his head, cleared his throat, and took a deep, ragged breath.

"You win, Taichi. There is something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time. I'm -"

"Hey! Open up in there!" The restroom door shook as a man outside tried to open it and, failing that, pounded his fist against the wood.

Both boys hurried to unlock it, and Yamato caught a mouthful of brown hair when Taichi beat him to it. They walked out, their faces red, with the entire restaurant staring at them.

"Suddenly I'm not so hungry any more," Tai whispered. Yamato gulped nervously, nodding. Motioning for Koushiro to get up from the booth where he still sat and follow them, the three Digidestined left the restaurant. As Yamato collected his guitar, he burned with embarrassment upon hearing the words that the people refused to whisper.

"What were they doing in there?"

"Kids these days -"

"Snorting up in a restaurant like this!"

"That tall blond - I've seen him playing at school dances before. Rock'n'roll and drugs go hand-in-hand, you know."

" - in the bathroom?"

" - illegal, not to mention how *young* they both are."

"Fucking heroin-addicts."

"Stupid fags."

* * *

Leelee's endnote: This didn't really accomplish much, I know. It's a bit drawn-out, but I don't want the story to move _too_ quickly. ^__^ 


	5. 

fafh1 Leelee's note: I've already established that I don't own Digimon or the characters and that I would do very naughty things with them if I did. That said, I must warn that this chapter contains the following:

1) Yamato in a drunken stupor.   
2) Taichi facing an awkward problem. (_Awkward_ is a fun word to say, but a not-so-fun word to spell.)   
3) Both boys in a compromising situation.

**Fly Away From Here**   
Chapter 5

Yamato fled from Koushiro and Taichi soon after they escaped from the restaurant, too confused by what had happened in the bathroom to even think up an excuse for being so rude. The words of the other patrons in the restaurant burned his ears all during his long walk home. He moved quickly, not dawdling as he usually did, and his guitar case hit his rump with every other step he took.

_Stupid Taichi! Stupid _me_! I can't believe I've been acting like such an idiot. Did I really think he'd never notice I've been avoiding him during the day and practically stalking him at night? Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

He angrily kicked a pebble out of his way. After a few more blocks, Yamato had reached his own apartment building, and was soon safe in his home. Masaharu wasn't there, which made his son deliriously happy. The gangly teenager with perfect hair, a perfect smile, perfect eyes, and a completely _imperfect_ life dropped his guitar off in his room and padded barefoot into the kitchen. He pulled off his school blazer on the way, draping it over the back of a chair at the kitchen table. Flicking on the light, Yamato sighed, surveying his choices of food.

_Rice. Bread with funky blue spots. An apple. More rice. Great. This place comes with a built-in dieting plan._ Running his fingers through his hair and mussing it up, Yamato crossed the floor to the refridgerator. He pulled it open, unsurprised to find two six-packs of beer on the top shelf, right next to an empty carton of expired milk. _Good old reliable dad. Never forgets to do the grocery shopping at the liquor store._ Knowing that his father wouldn't approve, but beyond caring, he snatched one of the six-packs out and closed the fridge door with his foot as he walked towards the living room.

Yamato threw himself down on the couch, sending a cloud of dust into the air. He pulled a can out of the plastic holding and set the remaining five on the couch beside him. He grabbed the remote and turned on the television, flipping through the channels for two hours, drinking until all six beers had washed down his shame and self-loathing.

_Stupid me._

* * *

A knocking at the door woke Yamato up about eleven o'clock. He opened his eyes slowly, then reached a hand up to rub them into focus. His temple was pounding in time with the rapping on the wood, his mouth had a distinctly furry taste to it, his neck hurt from sleeping with it bent at an odd angle, and he seemed unable to coordinate his fingers to find his face. The television was only making matters worse, as the insanely cheerful cast of a syndicated sitcom babbled at each other and paused every few seconds for the manufactured audience to laugh uproarously. It took him a few minutes to realize that the banging was at _his_ door and not the TV. Yamato felt around on the couch for the remote, and he encountered three empty cans near his lap, which clinked together when he touched them.

The events of the night came rushing up to assault him, and Yamato moaned.

"No! It didn't ha - _happen_!" he whined to himself, covering his face to block out the television screen. "It'sh too weird to be thrue. I'm trunk! I thou - thought it all up in my head and now I'm dreaming and Taishi doeshn't know I wanna duck 'im shilly and . . ." He trailed off, as the knocking at his front door became more insistent.

"Oh, _schit_!"

He pulled himself off the couch, grabbing the table as it tried to block his path, and stumbled unevenly to the door. Not looking in the eyehole, he simply pulled it wide open.

"Who'sh there? Whaddaya wa - Oh, schit again."

Taichi stood framed in the door, his face turned downward, his posture dejected. Yamato blinked at the darkness in the hallway. His heart began to race and his palms were sweating.

"Hi, Yamato. Can I come in?" Taichi looked up at him with pain in his deep brown eyes. Yamato stood dumbstruck in the hallway, holding onto the door with both hands. Taichi shifted his weight and rubbed the side of his face.

"I -" Yamato started, then stopped, unsure of what to say or do.

Taichi winced as his friend's breath hit him in the face. "Damn, man! Have you been drinking? You smell like my dad after he's been at the bar all night!" Taichi shouldered his way into the apartment, pulling the door out of Yamato's limp hands and pushing it closed.

Tai continued, "Yama, I came here to talk to you again. I know it's late, but I knew you were up, because I saw your lights on from the street -" 'Ish _he_ shtalking *me* now?' Yamato thought hazily. "- and, I, uh . . . Are you okay?" Taichi stared straight into his watery blue eyes. "Hey, take it easy. Don't cry, dude!"

Yamato shook his head to chase his tears away. The movement cause his world to spin around crazily, and after a moment of blackness and a muffled shout, he found himself hanging onto Tai for balance. The brunnet was pressed up against the wall, holding his breath, and holding his friend up by the armpits.__

_Woah._

"Yamato, why are you - damn, you're not as light as you look! - _doing_ this to yourself! It's a school night! I had to sneak out to come over here, and I sure didn't expect to find you like this!" Taichi exclaimed, grabbing two handfuls of the back of Yamato's shirt and hauling him upright, exposing a fair amount of skin in the process. Taichi half-dragged, half-carried the limp body of his fair-haired friend into the teenager's bedroom, and threw him uncerimoniously on the bed. "What's _wrong_ with you! The way you're acting makes me believe all the things everyone keeps saying about you! I don't want to believe them!"

"Wha?" Yamato asked, groaning as he sat up after three tries. "Wha are they shaying 'bout me? That I'm -"

"They say you're on drugs! It's been all over the school for a couple of weeks now!" Taichi spoke quickly, obviously agitated from the way he kept running his hands through his hair and pacing back and forth in front of the bed. "Even the other Digidestined are wondering! Koushiro told me today that you're 'exhibiting the classic symptoms of substance abuse', and I'm not so dumb that I don't know what that means, Ishida!" Taichi turned and rounded on the boy sprawled on the bed. "Dammit, Yama! Dammit! I came here to talk to you again, and I find you like this! What am I supposed to think?" Taichi's eyes were mysteriously wet, and his shoulders were heaving, but whether from anger or pain, Yamato couldn't tell.

"I'm not on drugs, Tai," he answered, surprisingly steady, tearing his eyes off the form of the brown-haired angel in front of him and staring at his window blinds.

"How can I believe you?" Taichi asked, subdued, crossing his arms over his chest protectively. "Why did you get drunk tonight, then? Why?"

Yamato took a deep breath. His head was spinning, which made it hard to stay upright and awake, much less concentrate enough to carry on a conversation. Every time he blinked, his eyes lost focus, and every inch he moved made his stomach lurch unpleasantly. But, despite his physical condition, he felt arousal stirring inside him. He fervently hoped it didn't show.

"I got drunk tonight I'm in love."

Taichi blinked. "What? That's - that's _great_! Who's the lucky girl who messed with your heart and made you almost pass out in the hallway?" he asked sarcastically.

Yamato lowered his head, too ashamed to look him in the eye, and too uninhibited by the beer to keep his mouth shut.

"You."

Silence, thicker than fog, engulfed the room. Yamato felt his throat constrict, and he couldn't fight back the tears that began to leak from the corner of his eyes. _I can't believe I just said that! How can I face him after this? How can I face anyone!___

Minutes passed, and Yamato sniffled, rubbing his eyes and smearing snot and tears across his cheek. He didn't dare to look up at Taichi, so he was surprised when he felt gently hands on the his shoulders, and glanced up through his bangs to see his friend only a short distance away, his face blotchy from his own crying.

"Go - go _'way_, Tai! I don't want your p - pity!" Yamato cried hoarsely, humilated by his own breakdown in front of the one he'd dreamt about for years. He was stunned, then, as the owner of the Crest of Courage carefully gathered him closer and pressed his soft but insistent lips against the blond's.__

_Oh, shit. He _is_ gay, just like me. Or, wait! Is this pity of a different kind? Does he just want to 'be there for me' and - _Yamato's thoughts stopped as he gave up questioning everything and kissed Taichi back, letting his heart - and his hormones - guide him into pulling the man of his dreams closer and opening his mouth wider. Taichi was a persistent kisser, forcing Yamato's head to lean back and stealing the blond's breath from his mouth.

"What's going on here?" a deep male voice said from the doorway. The two teen boys broke their kiss and looked up at the outline of one Ishida Masaharu. Yamato was trembling as Taichi gripped him a little bit harder.

"My turn to say 'oh, schit,' I guess," Taichi whispered, unsmiling.

* * *

Leelee's endnote: Annoyed with those mini-cliffhangers at the end of every chapter? That's just the way I write. I've been getting wonderful reviews so far, and a big thank you to all those who take the time to bug me to keep cranking this out! ^__^ 


	6. Strange days

fafh1 Leelee's note: First of all, I want to apologize for taking so long to get this part on the site. I graduate from high school in a few days, and I've been busier than expected. Thanks for being patient, though! ^__^   
Disclaimer: Who, _me_, own Digimon and its characters? Nah, no way! _I_ wouldn't have created the unholy demonspawn Iori. *shiver* He gives me the heebie-jeebies!

**Fly Away From Here**   
Chapter 6

Yamato had always imagined that he would tell his father about being gay when he was older and had moved out of the apartment. He imagined that he would sit Masaharu down and calmly explain that the older man would have to turn his hopes to Takeru if he wanted any grandchildren. It wasn't that Yamato was _afraid_ of telling his father, per se, it was just that he didn't think his prospects for being accepted by the man were very good. By 'not very good' he believed to be less than one in a million.

"Yagami," Masaharu said after a few moments of expressionless scrutiny of the scene before him, "if I'm not mistaken, this is still a school night. I think you'd better go home to your parents." Taichi was visibly pale, but he gave Yamato one last squeeze on the shoulders and a hopeful half-smile before quickly slipping past the elder Ishida and out of the apartment entirely. Yamato winced when he heard the front door close, because it seemed to be the signal his father was waiting for. Slowly, deliberately, Masaharu took a cigarette out of the pack in his front shirt pocket and lit it with a lighter. He took a long drag and exhaled noisily.

"Well," he said. Yamato looked down at his lap, his arms behind him, supporting his half-sitting position on the edge of the bed. He waited for his father to go on, but the man only stood in the doorway smoking for a long, tense minute. "I didn't raise you to be like this."

Yama's head snapped up as if he'd been struck. "What?" he croaked, shocked. _Does he think that being gay is some sort of _choice_?_

Masaharu took another drag on his cigarette. "I didn't raise you to be staying out late on school nights, or to be drinking so young - I saw the beer cans on the couch, before you ask how I knew. I also didn't raise you to start your college experimentations in high school, not while you still live under my roof," he continued dispassionately, his fatigued eyes strangely sad.

Normally Yamato would have either kept quiet or snapped a sarcastic remark. The alcohol in his blood had not completely left him, though, and it made him bolder than usual. "Who says you've even raised me at all?" he asked coldly, narrowing his eyes at his father. "Don't keep deluding yourself that you've had any influence at all in my life. Don't dream that you're still going to win the Father of the Year Award. Don't stand there looking smug and superior and tell me that what you just saw is 'just an experimentation'! Dammit, you're never here! You don't know me, or who I am! You have no idea _what_ I am, none at all!" Yamato felt fresh tears stinging the corners of his icy eyes, and he wiped them away angrily.

Masaharu continued to smoke his cigarette in the doorway of his son's room. He was silent for a minute, then he turned as if to go. Stopping halfway, he said over his shoulder, "You're gay, son. I know that. I've known for longer than even you have, perhaps. Just because I work long hours doesn't mean I don't know my own child. I'm sorry if I haven't done the best job raising you." He paused, looking down at the hand clenching his tobacco stick. "I do know a thing or two about trying to figure out you are, though, if you ever want to ask." With that calm speech, he walked away, shutting the door behind him.

Yamato sat on his bed for a long time afterward, trying to make sense of his father, of Tai, and, most importantly, of his life.   
__

_"Hey, Jaded,_   
_you got your mama's style,_   
_but you're yesterday's child to me._   
_So, Jaded,_   
_you think that's where it's at,_   
_but is that where it's 'sposed to be?_   
_You're getting it all over . . ."_

The music floating in the breeze slipped away from Yamato's ears as he walked to school the next day. It was Friday, thankfully. If he survived it, the weekend would come and he could escape for a little while and find a way to forget his troubles.

Instead of taking a bus to school, he was walking. The air was chilly, but not so cold as it had been during the last few days. Yamato could still see his breath in front of his face, and he kept his hands buried in his pants pockets. He carried only his bookbag, not his guitar. He wouldn't need it until Monday, because he had told the guys in his band to take a few days off to practice independently.

As soon as Yamato reached Odiaba High School, he put his defenses up full force. _I have to watch out for Taichi. I still don't know what to make of last night. Did he mean it? Does he really like me back?_ His heart beat faster whenever he remembered the feel of the other boy's lips pressed against his. He absently reached up and rubbed his bottom lip, wishing Masaharu hadn't come home at the wrong time.

The halls were busy, but not as full as they would be once the school day officially started. Yamato slipped between his classmates, all of them laughing and chattering like monkeys in a banana tree, as they traded secrets and homework assignments. He felt disconnected, alone. He wasn't a part of the crowd, for several reasons. Most obvious to him was his sexual preferance, but as far as he knew, only Taichi was in on that little secret. Beside that, Yama was in a successful local rock band, a dream that very few people every attained. Finally, he was part of the Japanese team of Digidestined, and had saved two worlds from destruction over four years ago.

When Yamato reached his locker, he turned the combination as usual. The handle refused to pull up, though, which was odd. _It's never gotten stuck before. Maybe I should just pull harder._

With effort, the gangly blond teenager yanked his locker open. The door banged into the locker next to it loudly. Yama's heart pounded in his head as the kids around him laughed. He forced himself to smirk, nodding at the ones nearest him.

"Guess I'm tougher than I look," he remarked, knowing that his embarrassment would be lessened if he looked like he could laugh at himself. The high schoolers quickly dismissed the incident, resuming their annoying yapping at each other. Yamato stepped up his locker and unloaded two books from his bag, then took out a different one, for his first class of the day.

Because of his locker, he'd forgotten that he was supposed to be watching for Tai, so that he could avoid dealing with the too-skilled kisser for a while. Thus it was no surprise that Yamato jumped and stifled a yelp when he felt a warm breath against his ear, a hot body leaning against his, and a possessive arm around his shoulders.

"Hi there," a sultry voice tickled his right ear. Yamato turned, hoping it was one of the girls who had a crush on him because he was in a band. It was not his lucky day; Taichi's grinning face was only a few inches from his own.

"Hi, Tai," he whispered, looking down at the bookbag in his hands, his back to the kids milling about in the hallway.

"What'd your dad say to you last night?" the brunnet asked in a low voice, his arm still around Yama, his body still so close. Every touch seemed to set Yamato's nerves on fire.

The blond shrugged and Tai took the opportunity to entwine a few golden strands between his fingers. "Not much." _I hope he can't tell that I'm lying out my ass,_ Yama thought desperately. He could feel intense chocolate eyes starting at his face, and it added fire to his anxiety, as well as to his desire for the other boy.

"Well, I was thinking," Taichi said slowly, glancing at the kids around them, a spectulative glint in his eyes, "That if you wanted to come over my house after school today, we could finish what we started."

Yamato's heart bottomed out. His pulse was racing fast and furious and his throat felt dry.

Tai was looking at him again, the fire burning behind his brown orbs hotter than any inferno. Yamato swallowed and looked down again.

He nodded.

Taichi broke into an ear-splitting grin. "Great!" he exclaimed, slapping the taller boy on the back. Yamato staggered forward under the blow as Tai sauntered off down the hallway, calling out to one of the players on his soccer team.

The boy of Friendship wandered off to his first class dazed, feeling as if his world had been turned upside down.   



	7. Up a notch

fafh7 Leelee's notes: WHEW! What a week! I'm terribly sorry it's taken so long to get this story in gear. I hope no one has gotten upset at me for my lack of progress. I have good excuses, really, I do! I graduated from high school on May 20, and, naturally, partied a bit. I got up before dawn the next morning and drove a state away to my new home with the 'rents. I've been unpacking and buying new furniture (and toys - shh!) and trying to savor the time I had with my boyfriend (he's gone back home now. *sigh*). Anyway, on with the frickin' story already, right? ^__^

I don't own Digimon. *blinks* If I did, Yama would've been an astronaut _and_ a model for Playgirl on the side! (And I'd be the photographer . . . wait, that's a personal fantasy. Scratch that!)

**Fly Away From Here**   
Chapter 7   


The bells rang for the last class of the school day, and the students eagerly filed out of the classroom, chatting and laughing with each other. A lone figure hung back, sitting at his desk, carefully putting his books into his bag. Every move he made was slow and deliberate.

Yamato moved sluggishly in an effort to disguise the shaking in his hands. His head hurt, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He found himself breathing faster, although he hadn't done anything physical enough to warrant it. He was filled with so many conflicting emotions - fear and anticipation, dread and desire, nervousness and lust.

He shouldered his bag and began walking out of the school. _What if Tai's not there?_ He mentally slapped himself. _Of course he'll be there! That guy has never broken a promise in his life. _Yamato shook his head to clear it. _This is too confusing. For years, he's never given off any signals, but that kiss last night . . . was so *electric* I have to wonder if the signs were there but I just didn't see them._

"Yamato! Hey, wait up!"

He turned at the feminie voice behind him. Smiling weakly, trying to hide behind his hair, he said, "Oh, hi, Sora."

She was flushed from running to catch up with him. "How are you, Yama-chan?" He tried not to wince. "I haven't seen you in a couple of weeks. Is everything alright?" Her eyes never once left his face and he found himself sweating under her seemingly-innocent strutiny.

"Everything's fine, Sora. I've just been busy with the Wolves, that's all." Yamato played with the straps on his bookbag nervously, wishing the redhead would just _leave_ so he could get to Taichi's house and deal with their unfinished business.

"Well, your drummer - what's his name again? Oh, it doesn't matter - he told me that you guys were taking a few days off." Her eyes were hard and questioning. She tilted her head to the side in a way she probably thought was cute. "I thought we could go do something this weekend. There's a new Jackie Chan movie showing, or, if you want to see a romance . . ."

Yamato shuddered at the naked desire in her expression. Sora licked her lips like a hungry cat in front of a mouse.

"That's a great idea, Sora, really it is." He thought fast. "But, uh, I already have plans . . . with that blonde in our Trig class. Do you know her? She sits behind me and always tries to talk to me?" Yamato flashed a dazzling smile, crinkling his eyes up so he wouldn't have to look at her. 'Did I sound convincing enough?' he wondered.

"I'm sorry, really," he added, keeping his smile wide.

Sora's face fell and she crossed her arms, hugging herself tightly. "Oh, alright, I guess, Yama," she said softly. Blinking furiously, she turned and walked back the way she'd come.

He didn't waste any time staring after her; he had made up his mind to go through with whatever Taichi wanted, and he didn't want to keep his fiesty friend waiting any longer.

_I just hope this doesn't turn out badly._   


Yamato stood outside the Yagami apartment, suddenly too afraid to knock. His palms were wet with fear and he felt decidedly lightheaded.

_Idiot! You've been standing here for five minutes! Just _knock_ and get it over with._

Biting his lip, he raised his fist.

_What if his parents are home? Or Hikari?_

Indecision kept him frozen, so that when the door swung open from inside, Yamato was left with his right arm raised, his face very red.

"I'm glad you came," Taichi said with a wide smile. "I wasn't sure you would."

Yama's breath caught in his throat. _He looks like an angel, _my_ angel. _Taichi was still wearing the pants and the shirt that were part of their school uniforms, but the shirt was unbutttoned and untucked, exposing the white tshirt underneath. _If this were one of those cheesy romance movies - and I were playing the part of the girl - this is the moment when he would pull me inside and kiss me passionately. Then we'd go to his bedroom and fuck each other for hours upon hours upon -_

"YAMATO!" Taichi waved his hands in front of the blond's face. "HEY! Are you going to come in or not?" His lips turned up in a sultry smile. "Unless you want to give my neighbors a show?"

Unsuccessfully fighting off blushes, Yamato moved cautiously into the apartment. He slipped off his shoes and set his bookbag next to one that he assumed belonged to Tai, then stood uncertainly in the hallway while the other boy closed the door and slipped home the bolt.

Taichi winked as he closed the distance between them. "I don't want Hikari to walk in. She usually doesn't come home for a few hours, but I don't want to take a chance."

"What about your parents?" Yamato asked, noticing that Tai kept moving slowly nearer.

"Dad works until seven or so. Mom is visiting my aunt in Kyoto for the weekend." Taichi licked his lips, his eyes sparlking with delight. "We've got some time by ourselves. I don't think your dad is going to walk in on us _here_. Do you?"

Yamato forced out a nervous laugh and his voice squeaked in protest. "No, I," he said in a high voice. "No, I don't think so," he tried again, finding his normal range.

"Good." Taichi's body was so close Yamato imagined he could feel heat radiating from it. The brunnet raised his hand and placed it on the taller boy's left shoulder. He face inched forward, and Yama braced himself.

_Just do it. Just do it! Kiss me!_

Chocolate eyes never once left blue ones as the lean, tan face moved ever closer to the heart-shaped, pale one. Yamato was breathing heavily, dimly aware that his back was pressed tightly up against the wall just inside the front door. A roaring filled his ears and he inhaled the sharp scent of Taichi's cologne.

_He's wearing cologne? For me? Incredulous._ His knees weak with desire, Yamato took a quick breath and squeezed his eyes shut as he felt, for the second time in as many days, Tai's soft, persistent lips against his own and Tai's wet, questing tongue seeking to explore his mouth. Yama's head hit the wall with a light crack, but he barely noticed.

_This is ecstasy,_ he thought dizzily. Taichi's hands clumsily groped his arms, his chest, his shoulders and Yamato wrapped his long slender limbs around the shorter boy's torso. _This is better than drugs._ Fingers combed through his hair, toyed with his right ear, slid down his back, and finally rested on his waist.__

_This is too good to be true._ A hand snaked down to the front of his pants. Yamato was already suffering from an acute lack of room in the fabric of his crotch area, and Tai's eager fingers only made the situation worse.

Yamato pulled his head away and took a breath. Taichi stared at him, smiling as if he had his hand in a cookie jar instead of slowly worming it down Yama's underwear.

"I think. We should. Move away. From the door," the blond whispered thickly, his tongue uncooperative.

"My bedroom."

Licking his lips, Yamato nodded. Taichi hooked two fingers into the taller boy's beltloops and walked backward slowly, leading his more-than-a-friend to his and his sister's room.   



	8. The Bedroom

fafh7 **Fly Away From Here**   
Part 8

Yagami Taichi was walking backwards to his room and, because he was distracted by what he was doing, he misjudged the distance.

"Ow," he mumbled, rubbing his tender rear end, which had just smacked into the closed wooden door. Ishida Yamato covered his mouth with a hand to hide his smile.

"It's not funny! I could have really injured my -"

"Ass?" Yamato finished for him. Taichi grinned. Now that their feelings for each other were semi-out-in-the-open, it was easier for the blond to be around the brunnet without being skittish. Yamato felt as if a hundred rocks had been lifted from his back.

_But there are still 900 more to go,_ he thought darkly. He was still uncertain about so much. His father's reaction to finding the boys kissing was confusing, to say the least.

It was hard to think about anything except Taichi, though, especially when the boy in question was standing less than two feet away from him, with a suggestive glint in his eyes and a leering smile playing across his lips.

"So that means you've been looking at it, then?" Taichi asked, still grinning.

Yamato rubbed the back of his neck. "For a very long time," he answered honestly, lowering his gaze. "This will probably sound stupid, but I've been watching you a lot for the last couple years. Ever since I - since I . . ." he trailed off, suddenly unable to speak past the lump of fear in his throat.

"Since you realized what a delicious piece of meat I am?" Taichi prompted.

"What?" Yamato's head snapped up. "No, no, that's not it at all. I mean, it is, but I -"

"You think too much," Tai told him, putting a finger across his lips to silence the blond. "I was _joking_. You know what a joke is, right?"__

_Damn that smile. Every time I see it my insides melt,_ Yamato thought.

"Of course I know," he replied. Another thought suddenly left him feeling cold all over, the hot pit of desire in his stomach burning itself out, leaving him with rocks again. "Is that what this is?" he asked, his voice catching. "Is this a joke to you, Tai?"

Taichi looked stricken.

Yamato turned around, feeling his eyes water. "Oh, _great_. Just fucking great. This is a joke! You've probably got all of your friends in there, waiting to jump out at me and yell 'Surprise, gay boy! Joke's on you _again_!'" He stumbled a couple feet away, eyes burning with unshed tears.

"Yamato, how can you think that?" a soft, gentle voice asked from behind him. Taichi slipped his arms around his friend's slender frame once again. He rested his head on the taller boy's shoulder, his brown hair making Yamato's right ear itch. "C'mon, man, I'll prove it to you." Taichi gently pulled Yamato backwards to the bedroom door. He used one hand to turn the knob and open it and kept the other grasped on Yamato's arm, lest he try to flee.

"See? No one's there," Taichi said reassuringly, his voice soft but strong. "Just Kari's old dolls, but I'll cover their eyes if you want."

Yamato half-turned and glanced up at Tai's disarmingly charming smile. "Nah, let them look," he replied, forcing himself to appear happy and unnervous, which, being so far from the truth, was a huge struggle at the moment. "I need to get used to being watched if I'm ever going to make it as a professional musician."

Taichi tugged on Yama's arm, pulling him toward the bed. Both boys sat down, side by side; close, but no longer touching. Tai rubbed the back of his neck.

"What's it like?" he asked.

"What's what like?"

"Being a musician, following the rock and roll dream?"

"Oh, that," Yamato sighed, looking at the mess on Tai's desk. "It's . . . fun, I guess. It's a lot of hard work, though, which is why we have to practice nearly every day. I've only been on stage three times, though." He paused, glancing down at his sock-clad feet. "Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever make it. Our concerts haven't exactly been sell-out events."

"You'll make it someday," Tai said, the vehemence in his voice surprising the blond. "I've been to two of your concerts and I can vouch for your talent."

Yamato blushed hotly. "Uh, thanks."

The two boys lapsed into silence. Taichi, who had taken the lead, suddenly seemed unsure of himself. Yamato continued to stare at his feet, wishing he'd worn a pair of socks that didn't have a hole over his left little toe. They stayed that way for a few moments, as the sounds of traffic drifting up from the street.

Yamato suddenly felt Taichi's hesitant fingers rubbing his leg just above the knee. The motions caused the blood to leave his face and abruptly rush to a much lower region. Tai's hand became bolder as it slowly worked it's way up his leg.

He glanced up, finding Taichi's face less than a few inches from his own, the brunnet breathing heavily. "Tai," he whispered, leaning forward. Their lips met in a crushing kiss and Tai's tongue brushed against the tip of Yama's. By this time, the brunnet's hand was insistently stroking the fabric of Yamato's crotch, which bulged noticably. Yamato tilted his head forward, forcing Tai to lean backward. Gradually he forced the shorter boy to lay down, their lips still locked and their tongues still battling for supremacy, as Yamato lay half-sprawled across his friend.

_He tastes like peanut butter,_ a small voice whispered in the back of Yama's mind. _No, he tastes like honey. His tongue is like honey,_ another voice countered. _Shut up, both of you!_ his groin ordered, and the voices faded away so that he could concentrate on rubbing his own hands over Taichi's chest and crotch.

Yamato gasped as Tai's fingers began to fumble with the button and zipper on his pants. Kissing him harder and tracing the outline of Yama's lips with his tongue, Tai pulled down the zipper and tugged his pants a few inches down on his hips. Yamato trembled as a thousand bolts of electricity carrying fear and desire rushed bewteen his neurons at dizzying speeds. Tai's fingers stroked his penis through the fabric of his boxers, the sensation of silk on skin creating an excrutiatingly pleasurable friction.

Yamato pulled away from the kiss and gazed into Taichi's eyes. The brunnet smiled, licking his lips and slipping his hand inside Yama's boxers at the same time. His fingers brushed across the head of his penis, then roamed lower, roughly caressing his balls. Yamato sucked in his breath, and hurried to reciprocate, muttering a curse when his shaking hands lost the battle against Taichi's zipper; the owner of said zipper chuckling softly in amusement.

"I've never been in this situation before," Yamato whispered, an embarassed flush creeping across his face.

"Neither," Taichi's voice broke as Yamato finally got his zipper down and thrust his hand into Tai's briefs, gripping his dick and rubbing his thumb over the cleft in the head. "Neither have I," he confessed, closing his eyes as Yamato began stroking him, setting a rhythm both slow and demanding. Tai's own hand fell slack as Yama began to speed up and his eyes closed in pleasure.

_He has no idea how long I've dreamt of doing this,_ the blond thought as he gazed down on Tai's serene face.

Taichi's lips suddenly pursed and his body tensed, just before he came, his semen staining the inside of his underwear and dripping down Yamato's fist.

"Oh . . . shit . . . oh, man," Tai mumbled incoherently. "It's a lot better than doing it myself," he whispered, opening his eyes and looking up at the face of the blond angel hovering over him. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do this," he said simply. Yamato blinked, then leaned down and kissed Tai fully, deeply.

"I think I love you," Taichi mumbled against his lips. Yamato blinked again, but didn't bother thinking about it, since Tai's hand began moving again, seeking to return the favor.

_I guess dreams can come true after all,_ was the last thought in his head before he came, moaning his lover's name into Taichi's mouth.

* * *

Leelee's notes: Whee! Another part! Such a shame it took me so damn long (of course, the site's been down for a long time, which didn't help at all . . .). I hope my readers enjoy this part. ^__^ I have the rest of the story all fleshed out, just need to get my arse into gear and _write_ more! Ta for now!

Sept 2001 note: Rereading this story, I'm not sure I will finish it without going back and rewriting it from the beginning. Watch this space for updates and such. 


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